Gemini
by Seraphine Rose
Summary: In the kingdom of Gondor, the Steward and son have a dark secret, one which Boromir stumbles upon. Rated R for a reason people.Chapter 2 up
1. Chapter 1 Sons of Gondor

Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own this nor any character, phrases, or plot bunnies you may recognize from JRR Tolkiens' Books or Peter Jacksons' films, second of all If did (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

Dedications and thanks: Id like give A LOT of credit to Starwolf the Insane  (userid=136788 Read her stuff, its good!) if it wasn't for and RP done by the two of us, the entire first chapter would never have been written and I would have never come up with ideas for the second and third, so THANKS Mellon!

Rated: R

FYI- This Story is Rated for Rape and violence, and if you care to know a tiny tiny tiny mention of suicide. If this squicks you, click the back button now. This story is only three chapters long so I hope you enjoy, Flames will be used to cook toast DO NOT WRITE ME ABOUT GRAMMAR, other then that, criticism welcome. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!                                                       

                                                                                                            Chapter 1

 The sky's fire reflected dimly on the chipped walls of the once grand towers and battlements, and illuminated the drawn, filthy faces of its inhabitants. Boromir, son of Denethor, wandered the long roads and winding passages of the once proud kingdom that now faded into ruin.

            Long had Gondor been ruled under the wise command of the stewards, but Boromirs father now stood back, hiding in the glow of his position, while their people and their kingdom withered away. Of course, Boromir respected his father as one respects fire, for its dangerous power and licking flames but for all the respect their stood more resentment. It showed in the face of his brother every day, how much one man can destroy another. Searching half heartedly for a friend, and seeing no one, Boromir dragged himself back into the cold walls of the palace.

            Lying against the lifeless skeleton of the white tree, its roots still held deep in the soil of its people, was  Faramir, forgotten son of Gondor. He closed his eyes against the blinding sun, and frowned in the thought, rubbing a laceration on the soft under flesh of his wrist, blood now stained an ill-used blade. Hidden in the ill-tended grasses of the courtyard, Faramir felt free for the moment, of his torturous existence. The tree beneath his head reminded him of an old bond between the two, in a time when Faramir needed a friend, and fancied the withered bones could speak to him, comfort him when need be. However, nothing mattered now, save the wind fingering his youthful curls, the sun kissing his brow, and the peace enveloping him like a warm blanket. If only..

            Taking lengthy measures to remain away from the royal halls where the steward choose to roam (though he was not king and did not belong there) and brood, Boromir stepped into the brightly lit court yard, his hand acting as a shield against the over powerful contrast between the dark of his home, and the light of his yard.  A figure, slight yet powerful, lounged against the tree of Gondor, like a cat in mid nap. The sun bouncing off the long tendrils of golden hair made him smile, his young brother still liked to sleep with the sun beating down on him, something Boromir never quite understood. Tiptoeing, attempting to be as silent as the elves, the prince crossed the lush grasses and stood before the young man, casting a shadow on him.

            "Brother Dear, are you aware you missed tea?" Boromir inquired curiously, Faramir opened one bleary gray eye and frowned at his older brother. "And why have you been sleeping beneath this rickety fossil? Do you not wish to be inside?" Faramir frowned deeper, gazing moodily at the older son from behind a curtain of gold.

            "Well Brother," he snapped, taking his frustration out " I am staying as far from the hall as is possibly for a lowly son to be, and as far from our father," Faramir spat the word acidly "as is possible for anyone in this wretched place to be!" Boromirs wry smile fell from his face instantly, and his brow furrowed in annoyance and worry.

            "Oh for Elbereth's sake.what has that man done to undermine you now Faramir? I honestly wish Father would stop continuingly favoring me, you deserve no less praise then I, I have often spoke to him of it-"

            "when has father listened to sensible counsel?" Faramir interrupted peevishly, glaring down at the ground as though blaming it for his misfortune.

            "One day father will realize he is wrong to treat you so horribly, he will regret not showing love to you Faramir," Boromir wrapped a comforting arm about his brothers' shoulders,

            "Perhaps when I'm dead he will acknowledge another son in his midst, until that day my name shall be a curse when spoken from his lips, and my very birth regretted by him." Faramir seethed, sadness dulling the beautiful sparkle in his eyes "I am the forgotten, my entire life a mistake in his eyes. I shall never please his lordship; I was born in these lands, to this kingdom and it people, and I have served both faithfully, yet it seems my fate is to be forever hidden in the shadows, your shadow more specifically." Boromirs arm tightened protectively around his little brother, his heart breaking at the dull eyes and pale cheeks so unusual on the familiar face. Lifting Faramir's downcast face, Boromir smiled,

            "No matter what father say, I never was and never will be better then you, we are brothers and complete equals." Boromir sighed regretfully "I wish I could do something more for you Brother, but as much as father favors me, he will not listen to my counsel."

            Faramir snorted "Again, when has father ever listened to decent council? His word is law, nothing will ever change what he believes to be correct, even if that means eventually destroying everything worth protecting in this land," breaking free of his brothers arms, Faramir went to stand at the edge of the courtyard, looking out for miles over plains and forests and rivers. "I would do anything to protect this Land Brother, die for its people if that was what it took, and yet I am accused of caring nothing for this realm, for this world. I hate to be dismal, but the truth remains nothing I do out of love, out of human goodness will ever be seen as proper in the eyes of our father," Faramir sighed resigned " Will nothing ever please him Boromir? Is their no way to earn his love?" Boromir stood, marching to where his brother stood, an angry expression creasing his rough features, he had heard Faramir rant many times over the injustice of their father, but he felt a particularly strong feeling of guilt for not helping his beloved brother sooner.

            "I'm afraid our father is high strung," he murmured " Perhaps we should just disappear, leave this wretched place and be rid of this pain forever, be rid of him forever. There are many hidden coves and mountains in middle earth, surely someone would find kindness to house us, and the Servants favor us, they would pack necessities if we asked it of them, and we have or own fair bred horses, they would carry us great distances into new lands." Boromir stroked his stubbled chin in thought, weighing the idea in his mind. "How does that idea appeal to you Brother? To leave this injustice behind us and start a kingdom of our own were no one shall be above or below the law." Faramir sighed, lifting his eyes skyward to watch twilight creeping into the light blue sky 

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        "That sounds like such a wonderful dream, but could we do it? Certainly easy enough to sneak out but could we really abandon our people in such a way? We would be leaving them to the mercy of our father, Boromir you are all that saves the lives of many petty thieves in this kingdom, were you to leave families would fall to ruin when a father or brother was hanged for stealing a loaf of bread. Sentenced to an ill conceive fate at the hands of our father," Faramir frowned at his brother "And If I left, the guards would learn ruthlessness, would know only what our father drilled into their minds. Mocked though I am for caring so much for learning and books, it is often what keeps our soldiers better then orcs; could we really leave and watch this kingdom come to ruin? Could we live with their blood on our hands?" A long, weary sigh escaped the older mans lips; the world crumbled down, a rose wilting in the endless drought of humanity, wishing for death to end the thirst but finding no such relief. The world spun and left Boromir cursing each new obstacle the sun brought to them.  

        "Nothing is ever simple, is it?" The exclamation expressed the bitterness of unfairly dealt hand "Even the sons of the Steward cannot do as they wish. The young royalty of Gondor have been imprisoned by their own father, and though we love the city so, we are trapped." Looking skyward, Boromir wished life were as simple for mortals as it seemed to be for the heavens. All a star need to do was shine, serve as a light for the weary traveler and heartbroken children below them, their beauty sparkled like diamonds, never wavering or disappointing. Boromir wished they could lie among the heavens as well; Faramir leaned his head onto his brothers shoulder, similar thoughts of a simplistic life torturing him, teasing him by touching his fingertips and hen dancing out of reach.

        "If life were easy Boromir, we would not need guardsmen or warriors, we would not be needed by our people to keep peace and our father would treat us with fairness. Life would be perfect brother, but in the life I see through my eyes nothing will ever be perfect, and nothing will ever be fine. Life never meant for us to be faultless," Hot, liquid fire stung the stormy eyes of the youngest and Boromir wrapped his arm around Faramir's shoulders again in comfort and pity. "There's not much else we can do, though, is there?" another sigh. "We ask for the simplest things, understanding for one, and yet we can never achieve them." He dropped his gaze from the stars to the ivory stones beneath his feet, and closed his eyes. "There's naught we can do, and that's the worst part of it all. We are bound to this city and its fate, so we cannot leave, long for it though we may. The plan would have been a failure besides," he thought aloud, "Father would've sent an army to capture us. We would have no peace as long as his rule still reached the borders of our kingdom." 

        "Yet another shattered dream for Boromir and Faramir." Boromirs huffed, his steady breathing relaxed the young brother, as they watched the stars move in their intricate dance, timeless as the very moon, rising each eve and falling each morn, steady and constant for those without such pleasures in their own lives. The heavenly bodies seemed to embody all of life, all of the past, present, and perhaps even their own future; Faramir liked to think if all forsook him, the stars would always be their. A particularly bright image in the sky drew his attention. It looked to be the image of two friends..

        .of two brothers. 

   
        

        "To be trapped, with no escape like a wild animal backed into a cage, wherever we turn metal bars surround us," Faramir whispered "Whips and chains to hold us, and starvation to fuel us; shattered dreams will cut us like glass for the rest of our long lives. Boromir, you will be put on an unwanted pedestal and I shall be the unseen son, forgotten and abandoned in all sense."  A sob welled up in his throat, the bond between himself and his brother caused Boromir to instinctively tighten protectively around his little brother when he felt the pain radiating off Faramir's soul, to protect him from the monsters lurking at the edge of their minds. 

      "The inevitable shall, inevitably, come. And what can we do when everything we have ever held on to crashes down around us? When we are cornered and scared and no one can save us? What do you do when the world is ending?" He gently stroked Faramir's hair. "There's nothing, nothing we can do, and nothing we could have done. Tis' a black void of nothing that we are powerless to escape." Boromir shut his eyes angrily. "I don't want that, and yet I see no other end." Sadness laced his voice as his own silver eyes looked out onto the endless plains. Rolling hills raced with the stars above in a contest man cannot fathom to imagine. The growing intensity of the moment caused Faramir to look into his deep eyes that held age and misery. He bared his soul to his brother; allowing Boromir to see into the young mans very heart, never wavering in his calm and unruffled appearance.

        "What do you do when the world ends? You fight brother; you fight and find hope where there is none. When the world falls and you are left standing amid the ruin, will you shut your eyes or face it? We cannot shut our eyes Brother mine, I certainly will not. There is an end it is just the in the twilight of our lives, of which we cannot yet see."

                    Boromir gaped at his brother, jaw dropping. Faramir never ceased to amaze him. Being of an unusual upbringing, the elder believed it quite obvious that the stormy eyed man was wise beyond his years.... Though Boromir was a superior fighter, Faramir was the cleverest, always saw things in a different light than others did. Again astounded by his brother's insightful words, Boromir stumblingly replied. 

        "You're right. But the day is ever approaching, and I know not what to do to prepare for it when it arrives. Doubtlessly it shall catch us both off guard..." He looked back at the sky, and shook his head. "It's getting late, Faramir. We should go inside before Father starts shrieking at us." Taking Faramir's hand in his own, he started to lead his brother out of the courtyard and into the castle's confines. Looking back to into the sky, the souls drank in the sight of the heavens above, and the brothers forever shining for the mortals below.

        The Palace insides surpassed any sculpture, painting, or book in Faramir's opinion. His gaze roamed over towering monuments and statues reaching the high ceilings and sweeping doors of the Castle. Kings of old once graced the kingdom, leading its people to prosperity and happiness "Brother, do you believe the king will take his place on the throne in our life time?" Faramir looked at the statue of Isildur Standing strong and proud, possessing the sword that smote the mightiest foe the world of men had ever known. A spared thought made him wonder at the kings of old, could they save the people he loved so...

                      ...could they save his family; Faramir knew he would give all the riches and titles ever given to him to see their kingdom rebuilt to its once glorious beauty. Boromirs crystalline eyes narrowed thoughtfully, as he too looked into the immortalized eyes of kings, 

        "I do not know Faramir; I doubt a king would be of help in any case, father would not relinquish his control, and who would stand beside a stranger? It has been centuries past since last arose a king, our people would fear him, distrust him, I do not believe the legends are possible." Suddenly weary of Life, Faramir leaned heavily onto his brother, slowing their pace to a crawl, wistful sighs echoed around the high chamber

        "Sometimes I wish the legends would come to life Brother, and save us from this circle of lies we seem to have been born into," Rubbing warmth in to the cold skin beneath his fingertips, Boromir mulled over his brothers words; A king? To be ruled over, to be stifled by ones father caused enough damage to them to trust a stranger would be folly.

        _'Then again,' _whispered his conscience 'would a stranger tear your heart when he praised you, would a strangers wisdom seem as folly, his actions as devastating. Would a stranger wound the hearts of his men worse then ahs already been done?'

        The answer to his questions came unbidden: No. The only one who would hurt because of the kings appearance would be the lives of our people when his father refused to surrender control.

        "Father wouldn't listen to him," whispered Boromir "he relishes the power given to much to step down for the rightful heir."  A childlike dreaminess spread across Faramirs' lips and eyes, his mind delving in what had not yet come to pass.

        "The king would not stand alone," murmured he softly" the elders of this realm would stand beside him, the children and light of our future would stand swayed by his healing hands and hopeful light. I would stand beside him if he would not bar my service to him, the elves and Isatari of middle earth would stand beside him, and they would cry with a voice not even father could ignore. The voices of this realm would sing of the king and of peace, until the music reached into our father stone heart and he too stood to sing. The king will take the throne Boromir, and the white tree will once again blossom, brightly and beautifully, and our people would have food enough to feed on for months, and our regality will once again be reborn. All it takes is one voice brother, to sway a world, one day, before the king does return that voice shall be yours. I am sure it will be you who starts many voices," Smiling lovingly at his young brothers open mindedness and unimaginable innocence, the older man stroked the younger mans alabaster cheek gently, with the affection of one close in mind and heart as only they, as brothers, were.

      "Again, dear brother, you are right. Though I know, it will be you who will accomplish such a feat. People will forever see me as the winner of wars and slayer of evil, but you, you are the one with the true strength. The fell winds blown your way, product of our father, have never struck you down; no matter the injustice or resentment shown to you, calmness and patience keep you. A braver man I have never known. Your time will come, Faramir, and even father will not cast you down. Victory shall be yours, and you will receive the praise and respect you have already earned." Boromir ruffled Faramir's golden hair. "We should probably bid 'goodnight' to father, grudgingly or no," he suggested," if not we will be faced  with a very disgruntled Steward in the morning." A wry smile crossing his features, Boromir looked to his brother for his response. 

     "Why me? Why us?" the younger man whined like a small child told to take a bath. Sighing dejectedly, he said "Wait, disgruntled as opposed to his usual demeanor? Ah Elbereth, we'd best say our goodnights, otherwise we'll wake to find our nannies in our bed chambers on orders to re-teach manners!" Covering his mouth in mock horror and amusement at the very thought, Faramir swooned on the spot, like a lass faced with a mouse. Laughs echoed through the high ceiling halls, as stone eyes watched the brothers on the floor clutching painful sides. Boromir too, feigned deep horror at the mention of 'manner reteaching,' and between side splitting laughter gasped.

       "That would be a t-terrible scene to... behold, I'm sure. Unless you fancy e-emotional torture and tedious... tasks, we should do whatever it takes to avoid that." Boromir, still beside himself with mirth faked an affluent stance as he strode through the hallways toward the royal chambers, motioning for Faramir to follow his lead; He poked his head into the throne room, the mirth suddenly gone from his sharp features.

        "Father?" he called tentatively. "Faramir and I have come to bid you a good night." His soft voice carried around the spacious marble hall, echoing around and off of the large stone columns and the stained glass windows. Denethor, quite involved with his own thoughts, ignored his son's voice for several moments. When he did reply, the tone was clipped and measured. 

      "Very well, I bid thee goodnight, Boromir."

****

Frowning at his father blatant rudeness toward his brother, Boromir turned, grim faced, and sad, whispering to Faramir,

        "What can we do." He walked past, entering the winding hallway and leaving in the direction of his bedchambers. Faramir bit his lip, a choice between two paths, the choice to close his eyes, or the choice to face whatever destruction might be had lay before him. Drawing a deep breath, he stepped into the chamber resolutely, his face grim and solemn. Taking a place before the steward, his father, Faramir knelt, dipping his head gracefully to the marble floor. 

        "Father," he pleaded, turning his eyes up "will you not bid me goodnight? Will you not acknowledge the presence of another son in your service? I ask only this of you my lord, if you never see me as worthy, forever christen my birth a folly and speak my very name as a curse, please grant me this small kindness. If only for my loyal service to you and this kingdom." tears trickled slowly down the young captains' face and he whispered beseechingly "Please father Please," Denethor raised his shadowy dark eyes, a small gesture rarely wasted on Faramir,

      "I do not wish to have you in my presence. You mar the scene before me. Do not ask me for favors you have not earned," Snarled the steward, his hatred of the young man before him radiating from his entirety, "Leave."  Hanging his head in bitter sadness and shame, the young gray eyes met hard black ones "What have I done father?" Faramir asked a bitter edge sharpening his voice like a sword "what have I done to displease you so?"

        "You have failed," Denethor snapped. "Whenever I have assigned to you a task, you have failed. You will never amount to the honorable man your brother is, and nothing you do will earn you his position. Now leave, before you anger me further." Denethor would say no more to his heartbroken son, and he harshly pointed a finger at the door. Bowing curtly to his father Faramir turned on his heels and marched from the hall like a solider into battle. Despite his tears, his stance remained strong before the feet of his father, but alone, all walls came down, weighing heavily on his shoulders, Faramir did not risk angering their father, he was not merciful and would not hesitate to beat Faramir to submissiveness. Boromir knew nothing of Denethors' torture, at least the physical torture, inflicted upon his younger brother and Faramir did not wish that knowledge on Boromirs mind. in the passing of his brothers chambers, the young man felt his hands shake and he screwed his eyes shut against the anguish flooding him. With a sob, he took a single step and collapsed a sobbing heap on the cold stone floor. Boromir, who had just pulled his nightshirt over his head, turned to face the direction from which he'd just heard a rather loud and sudden "thud." Peering around the corner of his door, he called out softly. 

      "Hello?" Crying, 'what brings this sadness to my door' thought Boromir sliding his arms through the sleeves of the shirt and listening intently as he stepped into the corridor. As his eyes adjusted to the dim light, he could make out the figure of Faramir, his slight shoulders shaking as sobs wracked his tiny body. Boromir knelt down beside his brother and shook his arm worriedly. "Faramir? What happened?" He pulled his brother into a comforting embrace, and smoothed out the back of Faramir's shirt. "Was father being awful to you again?" Faramir wiped his eyes and nodded, reddening with shame, he was the captain of Gondor and it was disgraceful for him to be seen in such a state of disarray. Sensing his brothers' discomfort and grief, Boromir placed his hands on Faramir's shoulders and forced his brother to look at him. 

      "Listen to me. No matter what anyone ever tells you, I am no more worthy of anything than you are. We are equal, regardless of what wicked lies Father spreads." Boromir smiled sadly "Now tell me, what horrid words did he speak to upset you so?" Faramir stared past him, at something one would be sure only he could see, 

        "Father spoke only the truth Boromir," Faramir whispered emotionlessly, hiding his river of pain beneath an unfeeling mask. No one could, or would ever understand who he was, but maybe he held himself to a higher opinion then he deserved, perhaps he merely believed himself better, and his father knew the truth, that he was nothing but fault from birth...

        Boromir frowned and raised an eyebrow. "We both know Father's idea of 'truth' is more than a bit off the mark. Come, let's go sit before we call attention to ourselves." He dragged Faramir into his room and made him sit down on the quilted comforter of Boromirs' bed. "Now what happened," looking at the ground, his hands, his feet, anywhere but in his brothers' eyes, Faramir felt a shame deep in him something that would not go away, the shame of never measuring to a standard he forced upon him all his life. The realization of truth had finally sunk in, he was not good enough; the good he believed he possessed was a lie. 

        "I am not good enough, I have been deceiving myself and those who follow me into thinking I deserve respect," Boromir felt frustration well up in him, but stopped himself from yelling. He could not comprehend how his brother's self-esteem had become so low, but, it was. He shook his head and folded his hands in his lap. 

      "Faramir," he said delicately, "YOU are deceiving yourself if you truly think that you are not honorable and praiseworthy." Shooting his brother a sidelong glance, he continued. "Father is the one who tells lies, and you should know to put his words out of your mind. He speaks not the truth, and he only wishes to undermine any sort of confidence you possess, and to send you into a constant downward spiral of loathing and self-doubt. Do not listen to him. On the contrary, if you don't believe in yourself, then no one will." Smiling warmly, he wrapped an arm around his brothers' shoulders, leaning the man into him. Faramir frowned with thought, small wrinkled appearing on his pale forehead 

        "What have I done Brother, to earn respect, to earn the worth you say I possess? Have I ever succeeded in the missions appointed to me by our father? No. Have I succeeded in keeping my men safe? No. And yet, in the midst of failure, I say I am good and great? Is that not just imaginary fuel for my ego? What is so wonderful that you seem to see in me? There is nothing, I am not as good nor as successful as you, father was right all those years," Faramir looked into his palms, glaring hatefully at them" I have no worth to me," Boromir put a hand to his forehead and grunted,

      "Faramir, he cried in exasperation, "you're not listening to me. You have always been right beside me during every feat that Father claims I accomplished singe-handedly, even though he knows that is not the case. You took part just as much as I did, and Elbereth knows I would not be here if not for your intelligence and insight on many occasions. Father twists his words so that you do not remember things the way they happened -- he's convinced you that you are worthless, and you've reached the point where it takes little or no persuasion for you to accept his lies as facts. I'll put an end to this, Faramir. Father will not continue to hurt you so, not if I have any say in it."

      The young captain fought the tears in his eyes _'Your brother loves you, he thinks your worth more then this, why cant you except it?'_ Faramirs' inner self whispered to him. Looking into his brothers' face, he broke down into long, gasping sobs, tears of pain and loss leaving silky trails down his cheeks in their wake. He covered his face, wishing to avoid the shame of appearing weak. Rocking his young brother slowly, Boromir attempted to decipher the words Faramir spoke through his sobs, eventually completely understanding. 

        "It wont ever stop Boromir, he'll hate you too I wont have you bear that I wont.....I wont have him hurt you." The last of his words came in a barley audibly whisper, Faramirs' mind drifting to the white lines stroking his back, memories of sharp bows, and copper blood and screams and pleads and recognizing the agonized cries as his own. "He loves you Boromir, cherish that" Stiffening suddenly, Boromir shook his head violently. 

      "No, Faramir. I cannot ever be happy that my father loves me if he, for no suitable reasons, hates my brother. There's no excuse for his ill-will towards you, and you shouldn't have to endure such maliciousness." A wave of gratitude washed over Faramir, a sad smile crossing his face as he looked at his stubborn, over-protective brother. Entangling his finger in the soft hair of his brother, a habit developed from childhood, the young brother collected himself as best as was possible.

      "You have always protected me Brother of mine, but some things must be endured. It cannot...will not last, and perhaps I shall be the better for this, every chapter in a story conveys a message, just as every page of our lives carry a lesson we must learn. You cannot protect me now, and it would be wrong of me to ask it of you," Faramir stated softly, and Boromir fought back the urge to slap his forehead. 

      "Faramir, as long as I am here, I am going to protect you. I am your brother, and that is what I am supposed to do." He hugged Faramir tighter. "Not only that, but I want to keep you safe, and there's nothing you can do about that, either." Discouraged and exasperated Faramir shook his head disbelieving the words

        "Boromir, you are stubborn as a wild stallion, do you not understand what father would do to you? I am asking....no begging you to please, do not anger father, do not try to protect me from this. For once let me protect you from his dungeons-" Faramir clapped his hand to his mouth, Boromir had never known that His young brother had been sent to the dungeons , it was  another secret, something else that he did not wish on the elder brothers thoughts and hoped the slip of tongue went unnoticed. Unfortunately, Boromirs hearing caught the word "dungeon" the moment it passed Faramir's lips.

        "Dungeons?" Boromirs voice was sharp; echoing the word he hoped was misheard, but judging by Faramir's wandering eyes it was not. Eyes narrowed at the young man, who subconsciously rubbed the laceration on his arm. Observant and quick, Boromir snatched his young brothers wrist eliciting a hiss of pain from the man. Pushing the sleeve to the shoulder, the elder made out scars and gashes in the ivory skin, some years old and several fresh; A large slice across the wrist oozed, and at the sight of it, Boromirs rage boiled to its highest point.

        "What is this?!?" he roared, his face growing red and his lips white and tight. "I thought you had more sense then to do such a thing little brother, do you not understand what you have done? This could kill you!"

        "Good!" Faramir hollered back, eyes blazing in fury and pain "Not as though it matters whether I live or die, it will end the hate and the rejection, it will end everything! You cannot understand what happens to me Boromir so kindly keep your comments few as you know not of what you speak." Enraged, Boromir glared icily at his brother; How could this happen? How could Faramir, sweet, intelligent, understanding Faramir wish to end his existence in such a manor, how could he have lost tall love for himself, enough to purposefully harm his being. Attempting to calm his rage to a simmer so as to speak intelligibly and keeping his voice controlled he said simply.

        "Help me understand,"


	2. Chapter 2 Help me understand

Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own this nor any character, phrases, or plot bunnies you may recognize from JRR Tolkiens' Books or Peter Jacksons' films, second of all If did (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

Dedications and thanks: Id like give A LOT of credit to Starwolf the Insane  (userid=136788 Read her stuff, its good!) if it wasn't for and RP done by the two of us, the entire first chapter would never have been written and I would have never come up with ideas for the second and third, so THANKS Mellon!

Rated: R

FYI- This Story is Rated for Rape and violence, and if you care to know a tiny tiny tiny mention of suicide. If this squicks you, click the back button now. This story is only three chapters long so I hope you enjoy, Flames will be used to cook toast DO NOT WRITE ME ABOUT GRAMMAR, other then that, criticism welcome. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!                                                       

FYI 2- This chapter is the reason the story is rated R, if incest rape squicks you, please click the back button now. You've been warned 

                                                                                Chapter 2

Silence stifled the room, ridged ness and words unsaid hung above them threatening to fall, and as it seemed to Faramir, crush him as one would a bothersome, and worthless insect. Boromirs piercing stare had him feeling exposed, naked; the question, actually more of a statement, weighed so heavily on the young mans' heart, he felt it might shatter at any moment.

        "Help me understand brother." The elder repeated evenly, his arms folded defiantly across his chest and lips pursed in suppressed anger, "Because I do not know what it is I have fallen into. A pitiful of asps it appears, all waiting to shred a piece of my heart; and you are right, I know not of what I speak, I do not understand. I do not understand why you use your own steady blade to take away the life it protects, I do not understand why you, good and great and kind as you are, wishes to join our kin long passed to the spirit realm. Help me understand why my beautiful, amazing brother cannot see what other see in himself." Cracking, a wall ages old, Faramir's eyes burned, tears suppressed by years of denial tumbled like a waterfall, healing and releasing, a strong arm wrapped itself around his shaking form, pulling Faramir into a loving embrace. "Shhh, I'm sorry for yelling but this terrifies me brother. Come now tell me what is wrong Faramir, please let me help you."

        "You can't," Faramir whispered, willing his voice to form words "It is a past I wish to have left behind, but I fear it will never cease haunting my dreams, my thoughts. I am not innocent Brother, no sweet child; my blood, my soul, was tainted long before I understood the world, long before a blade was clutched in my hand, and before I understood love and truth. My innocence was lost to me before my 5th birthday," Unsure of his brother meaning, Boromir pondered past events in his brothers life and was dismayed to discover he had no recollection of his brothers first 8 years of life. Father made sure of that.

        "You speak in Riddles brother. I never mastered the interpretation of such eloquent tongue as you well know." Feeling Faramir draw a gasping breath, the elder glanced down worriedly, taking his brothers gaunt features and wide frightened eyes, "Faramir?"

        Memories flooded the unoccupied thought space of Faramir's mind, drudging up the day's of torture and hurt dealt to him, times the young man hid in a corner of his mind in hopes of ignoring. His breath seemed to be stolen from him, held tight in his chest as though a tight hand squeezed around him. Minutes passed, hours it seemed, when he felt a sharp sting on his cheek. Shocked, he looked into the silver eyes of Boromir, whose hand was raised, red from the contact of flesh and flesh.

        "Are you fine now?" asked Boromir, alarm apparent in his tone. Shakily, Faramir nodded and opened his mouth to speak; For a moment words failed him, and he opened and closed his mouth as a fish would.

        "I was….4," managed the man at last, his body shivering from the memories he was reliving "You were traveling, not a rare occurrence as you were nearly of age and were obligated to visit the people of our realm. I missed you I recall and asked father if I could take  a horse out and meet you at your first rest, at the time the idea of drunkenness was foreign to me as I had only a bit of wine now an then when I stole from your cup. Never did I think Father was drunk. Of course, when I asked for permission he would not consent,"

_        *'You are a naughty Boy Faramir, only good boy's deserve rewards.' _

_        'I don't want to be bad Daddy,' the young Faramir told his father with trembling lips….*_

        Faramir collapsed into his brothers' gentle embrace, memories overpowering him, sobbing into the linen gown as Boromir rocked and murmured calm words into his ear. "I did not know Boromir, I wanted to show father I could rise to his standards, I did not know…..I…I allowed myself to be led to the lowest dungeons, the one used by the last king of old, Isildur."

        His sobbing reduced to a shocked silence, and his eyes stared straight, rather emptily and unseeing, "Darkness, it was so-so dark; beady eyes watched me as though I was to be the next meal. I stayed close to father, he held the warm torch; the only light that penetrated the thick black fog." Faramir continued to speak to air, looking anywhere but his brothers' worrisome eyes "We reached the-the quiet room."

        "Quiet room?" The question came involuntarily, causing Faramir to cringe

        "Yes," Faramir whispered in fear "No sound traveled passed your lips, the air was thick and uncomfortable, so hot so dark. Father told me….he stated much the-the same, suggesting we re-remove our layers."

_        *'It is quite stifling in here, is it not Faramir? Let us remove a few layers so we can be more comfortable,' *_

         "It seemed…It seemed logical, the room did constrict me, especially confined in many shirts and apparel, so I-I removed them. But Father…..Father continued remove his own apparel, casting it aside and beckoning for me to approach him, a mad glint in his eyes; Father never frightened me more."

_        *'Faramir, come lad, come to father' whispered the steward, fixing a lustful stare on the boy 'You look a might feverish boy, come take the rest off'*_

        "It... I….I felt exposed, he never took his eyes from my skin; Innocence, my own at least, ended in a single moment, that moment," Faramir whispered, attempting to drown out his fathers eloquent words long past, words to draw forth from him the love only a child possesses. Anguish tore through him, stinging his eyes and sticking his heart; some wounds never healed.

                    "It-It hurt so much Boromir, I did not understand, I did not know he was violating me. Oh Boromir," sobbed the man, clutching the front of the elders shirt "He forced me, It felt as though he ripped me in half, over and-and over until he f-f-finished; Too much, It hurt and my tears made him laugh."

        *_'Ohhh….Faramir,' the steward purred into the howling boys' ear, agony like being ripped apart seared his small body, as the large man thrust, and the last tears of innocence betrayed trailed across his pain-paled cheek.*_

          
        "When…..when he was done, I th-thought thetorture was over, thought I could leave the dark room behind, forget of the incident and continue without a backwards glance for father. B-But, it did not end so quickly…"

        *_'Punishment is not over little one,' Denethor whispered, latching the weak child into rusty steel shackles; old and soiled with human remains the jagged edges dug into the tender, bruised flesh, leaving bloody marks. The cold granite wall met his face forcefully, pain riddled and scared, the child fought against his confinements, struggling against tears and cries, until the barbs of his fathers whip tore bare skin, cutting and shredding watching with mad, intoxicated eyes as the sleek, steel nails drew blood. Hours passed, pain leading to insanity, to pleading and begging for mercy.*_

_        * 'You are worthless aren't you? Aren't you!" screamed he, whipping, and beating until the youngster could gasp out through cries the answer he wanted to hear. Ripping into him, tearing him as the steward once more moaned into his ear, pounding into the tiny body, the bloody boys' weak screams exciting him further. Daybreak at last came, and he left the steamy, dark, blood stained chamber, abandoning the child to bleed in agonizing shame. For he had finally realized the tortured cries had been his own.*_

                    "… He beat me, for the longest while the screams did not resemble my own voice, I could not fight, not for lack of want but I was bound by decayed chains, and held still for fatigue had me. The feel of metal tearing my skin, releasing copper to mix among the remains of prisoners long parted from this world; my voice grew hoarse, and then violated me, ripping into me until I believe the sun rose." Calm acceptance laced these words, but fury did not describe the rage boiling through Boromirs veins, hating himself for being so blind, but the rage forced his thoughts on other matters. 

        "How many times," Boromir seethed, fury building in his chest, contorting his previously placid mouth. Hanging his head in shame, Faramir whispered in a voice Boromir barley caught

        "I do not know Brother, it took place until I came of age," thirteen years, thirteen pins that would be stuck in their father by the morrow. Such pain, how had his brother born it for so long alone? For it seemed to be a black secret held in chains in the back of his mind. The shock of such realizations left him with endless thoughts, and few words, nothing that could be said would consol the aching soul. Being without words, nor calm thought, Boromir gripped Faramir to his breast, finally understanding the tears wetting his beige tunic. Sleep finally claimed the memory weary brother, and his elder laid him down gently into the downy covers, wrapping quilts around his fetal form, and sighing with inner pain at not having realized sooner the madness of the steward.

        "I swear brother, if by life or death I can protect you, I will." Whispered Boromir, pushing a stray hair from his slumbering brothers' face and placing a chaste kiss on the tender forehead, "Sleep well love."


	3. Chapter 3 Be at Peace

Disclaimer: First of all, I do not own this nor any character, phrases, or plot bunnies you may recognize from JRR Tolkiens' Books or Peter Jacksons' films, second of all If did (which I don't) I wouldn't be writing fan fiction.

Dedications and thanks: Id like give A LOT of credit to Starwolf the Insane  (userid=136788 Read her stuff, its good!) if it wasn't for and RP done by the two of us, the entire first chapter would never have been written and I would have never come up with ideas for the second and third, so THANKS Mellon!

Rated: R

FYI- This Story is Rated for Rape and violence, and if you care to know a tiny tiny tiny mention of suicide. If this squicks you, click the back button now. This story is only three chapters long so I hope you enjoy, Flames will be used to cook toast DO NOT WRITE ME ABOUT GRAMMAR, other then that, criticism welcome. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW!!                                                       

FYI 2- Much lighter, kinda fluffy, very short. Thank you to all who have reviewed Iv had excellent feedback, the best Iv had for any story! This is the end I'm afraid, the final chapter :cries: I worked for two months on the whole thing so I hope you like(d) it. REVIEW REVIEW REVIEW! And check out other sotries my myself and my good friend Starwolf the insane! Cheers!

                                                                                       Chapter 3

        The patient forest of Lorien fell behind them, as the mighty river tossed the slender boats gracefully down its mighty depths. In the head, Aragorn stroked the glass toped surface, breaking through it with might slices of his ore while the young gardener hobbit clutched the slim sides and the Ringbearer looked to shore with curiosity. Behind, elf and dwarf shared a boat compatibly, laughing in turn at one humorous memory, then another. Last was Boromir and the two youngest of the Hobbits, who's tiny ears caught snatches of tales from each races' homeland, piping up in a tiny little voice, Pippin questioned,

        "Boromir, you talk little of your kin, why not share a story or two of your home and family! A man of Gondor must have a wealth of stories," gazing thoughtfully into the crystalline river, the future steward replied as soft as a breeze,

        "Gondor has ceased to show the caring your stories bring little one, for love is long forgotten in the halls of the kings." Silencing, the fellowship gazed back at the weakened man in surprise. They knew of Gondors' troubles, of his passion for the city and its blood, its people, but never had such sentimental emotion poured from his lips toward anything save honor. Shaking his head is disbelief, the dwarf murmured

        "Not long forgotten Id wager, if such a fine man as yourself comes forth from it lad," Gimli smiled a kindly smile at the man, renewing hope in the Gondorian mans' breast.

        *~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~* 

        Darkness, screaming, licking flames surrounded him, searing the skin and sinew from his bones, the cackling face of his Lord looming from above.

        "Awake" the command broke the fiery flames, allowing a pale light to shine warm on scorched skin, healing it with gentle care. Pleasure coursed through his limbs, as his simple steps brought him further into the light, and closer to a door, rising into oblivion, its golden arches looming comfortably above his head. Creaking with age, the steel hinges widened opening the faded oak panels and revealing a dark figure, clothed in splendor and grace, its long blonde hair falling soft about his shoulders, and silver eyes glinting with mirth.

        "Brother, time is short and the darkness waits not for stragglers, come." Left speechless by the soft voice, and fair face, Faramir reached out a soiled hand to stroke the solid flesh of his brother, Boromir.

        "What fell vision haunts me," whispered the young steward "walk I into delirium or reality? For you feel real but in my mind it cannot be," a booming laugh exploded from the elders lips, echoing around them.

        "Ever cynical, ever questioning brother, Nay this is no dream, nor is it reality. Foolhardiness costs you brother, nearly a life, your own as the case is, but the King summons you and I must guide you to the mortal realm." A lone tear escaped the clouded gray eyes of the steward, cleaning the dirt from his cheek and drying on his frowned lips. Mirth falling from his face, Boromir took his brothers face in his hands, bending to touch foreheads.

        "It is not your time brother, a life of joy you have yet to live but do not despair we shall not forever be parted, I shall whisper to your ears whenever the wind blows strong or still, I shall embrace you whenever anguish pays you company. When the stars shine, and the night brothers glow, I will stand beside you. Nay, I shall not leave you dearest of kin, for I am here" placing a hand over the beating heart "and soon shall another take place there as well." Tears welled again, brushed away by Boromirs' loving hand as he whispered

        "I love you Little Brother." 

        "I Love-" Boromir vanished, and, blinking, Faramir now gazed into the fair face of a hobbit who peered anxiously into his own.

        "Strider, he's awoken!" the Halfling cried, his squeaky voice drilling painfully into the stewards' sore skull,

        "I noticed as much Merry, how do you feel Faramir steward?" The man called strider questioned, receiving a vague "as well" from his patient while the young Halfling chattered. The sun set before Faramir was granted peace, and though weak, he demanded assistance to the healing gardens, he held no wish to remain encased in warmth and softness.

        The flowers perfumed the air sweet, and glowed as though blessed with elvish power, the large windows looking to the east cast only a dim memory of pain and screams as the clouds rolled in dark around the city.

        Faramir watched solemnly, when to his wonder a break in the cloud appeared to his weak eyes, and for barley a moments passing the brother stars twinkled in mirth and hope for the young brother below them.

                    Watching with a smile of satisfaction, silver eyes pierced the young ones own while Faramir gazed unawares. Kissing the cool brow with the gentlest of breezes, Boromir whispered on the winds own voice,

              
            "Be at peace Steward of Gondor."


End file.
